


the happiest place on earth

by FillorianHighKink



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Discreet but very public sex - people can see them but don't realize they're doing sexy stuff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Public Sex, Use of Magic or Powers During Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28859184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FillorianHighKink/pseuds/FillorianHighKink
Summary: Quentin has always fantasized about secretly getting off on one of Disney's dark rides.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	the happiest place on earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/gifts).



> For anyone in the Bulletproof Exchange coming into this one blind, here's a picture of Quentin:  
> 
> 
> And of Eliot:  
> 
> 
> This is set post-canon (and implies some happy ending shit happened in between), so all you really need to know is that they do magic with finger tutting (plus some other elements, depending).

Quentin can’t believe his life. It’s a bright, beautiful day at Disney World, and his boyfriend just pulled him off the main path to make out with him by the bathrooms.

“Mm, what was that for?” he asks when Eliot pulls back, both of them breathing heavier.

“Do I have to have a reason?” Eliot asks, grinning winningly. “Do me a favor?” At Quentin’s nod, he gestures to the nearby bathrooms. “Wait for the stall against the wall to be free, and then go in and shut the door without locking it.”

Quentin nods again, not really processing the words at first. “Hang on, why—”

“You’ll see,” Eliot says, swiping his lips against Quentin’s one more time before walking away, sitting down on the low wall by the bathroom.

Bewildered, Quentin heads inside, finding that last stall unoccupied and doing as Eliot says. He waits just long enough to wonder what Eliot’s plan could possibly be before Eliot pushes open the door, shutting it behind him quickly before working his fingers in a concealment tut that Quentin recognizes.

He feels the rush of magic settling into place before Eliot advances on him, pushing him against the wall and picking up where they left off, licking his way into Quentin’s mouth.

Quentin lets himself get lost in the kiss for a bit, never being one to turn down Eliot’s focus. But eventually he puts a hand to Eliot’s chest, pushing him back long enough to say, “Not that I mind some privacy now and then, but couldn’t we just do this outside?”

Eliot grins. “You remember that dream you told me about?” he asks, sliding his hand over Quentin’s fly and groping him. “The one where you got off at Disney World?”

Quentin breathes in sharply as his dick responds to the attention. “I mean, yeah, but that was an unrealistic, very public display that could never work in reality.”

“Maybe _that_ scenario wouldn’t work.” Eliot drops to his knees smoothly, somehow folding up his long legs in the space, working Quentin’s fly open and pulling down his shorts and boxers to expose his cock.

“Getting off in the bathroom isn’t exactl _ahh—_ ” Quentin says, his sentence getting away from him when Eliot sinks his mouth down over his cock without pausing to stroke or lick him first. His mouth is heavenly, distracting Quentin from where he is for a moment as his dick thickens in interest. “Fuck, El, we can’t do this here.”

“Of course we can,” Eliot says after he pulls off, his lips already slick with spit.

“As much as it means to me that you’ll get on your knees on a public bathroom floor for me, you really don’t have to. I’d rather say I got off at Disney World and mean our hotel room.”

Eliot hums thoughtfully, stroking Quentin’s dick and leaning forward to lick over the shaft. “This is only the beginning of the plan,” he says, eyes shining up at Quentin. “Do you trust me?”

Quentin’s breath leaves him in a rush at Eliot’s earnest, excited look. He nods, unable to lie, even though his anxiety is spiking a little.

“Relax, I’ve got you,” Eliot says, bringing a hand to his hip, and against all odds, Quentin does relax. It helps to know that he’s in a park full of people that don’t know him, that probably couldn’t pick him out of a lineup if somehow the concealment charm broke and they were revealed.

It also helps that when Eliot goes down on him again, he takes him all the way to the back of his throat, so hot and wet and _perfect_ that Quentin throws his head back against the tiled wall, moaning.

He closes his eyes and thinks of the dream—and of the maybe half-dozen times he’s revisited it since—where he’s with someone special on one of the dark rides, and somehow, inexplicably, they’re able to go down on him, invisible in the darkness, and through sheer force of will, he’s able to keep quiet enough to get off, surrounded by people, without calling any attention to himself.

Between these thoughts and Eliot’s amazingly skilled mouth, he can feel himself getting close. At this point, he doesn’t _care_ if he gets off in some random bathroom, not if it means he can sink into that wet heat—but then Eliot pulls off, squeezing his cock at the base, leaving Quentin whining at the loss.

Eliot stretches up onto his feet—far more gracefully than Quentin could have done—and kisses Quentin deeply, holding him back from thrusting into Eliot’s fist. When he pulls back, he’s smirking. “So, I think we have a Fastpass right now.”

Quentin’s eyes widen. “Are you really expecting me to go out there like this?” he mutters, gesturing to his aching cock, knowing he sounds desperate, but he _feels_ desperate.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you covered.” He pulls Quentin’s boxers up over his hips, trapping his cock inside. Quentin glares at him as he pulls the shorts up next, zipping up over his _very obvious_ hard-on. Eliot reaches into his pocket, fishing for something, and makes a triumphant noise as he pulls out a little clip. He fastens it to the waistband of Quentin’s shorts, and the illusion magic that must be within it takes hold, revealing—

“A fanny pack? Really?”

“Looks good on you,” Eliot says, kissing him again and rubbing him through the illusion. Quentin hates the sound that he makes at that little bit of friction. He does have to admit, when Eliot’s hand isn’t there, the illusion does the job of covering up his situation, but he aches when he wonders how long Eliot will make him walk around like this.

Their FastPass is for Pirates of the Caribbean, usually one of Quentin’s favorites when he’s not sufficiently distracted. They make their way to the front of the line quickly with their Fastpass, and Quentin has to fight not to look down at his groin every ten seconds to be sure the illusion’s still holding.

At the front of the line, Eliot speaks to the cast member, and they’re told to step aside, letting the next two groups through. Then when the next boat floats forward, they’re directed to the back row.

“What are you up to?” Quentin murmurs, a little thrill starting to soar through his body as Eliot rests a hand at the small of his back.

“Making your dreams come true,” Eliot whispers right against his ear, making him shudder as they take their seats. Eliot unwinds the backpack from his shoulders, holding it out. “You should probably hold this,” he says, laying it down on his lap. Quentin is about to ask again what’s going on, but Eliot places a finger under his chin to pull him over in his direction and kiss him soundly.

Quentin swallows down the moan he desperately wants to make, as his dick takes renewed interest in the situation. Their boat starts to move, and somehow the seat right in front of them is also mercifully empty. As soon as they’re out of the loading room, Eliot’s hand slides under the bag to rest casually over Quentin’s cock.

“El,” Quentin gasps out, but Eliot doesn’t let him pull away.

“Shh, keep kissing me,” he whispers, his fingers working open Quentin’s fly expertly.

“Oh my god,” he mouths, barely daring to breathe as Eliot reaches inside his boxers to pull out his dick. He reaches up to rest one hand under Eliot’s jaw, focusing his energy on the kiss while his other hand maintains a death grip on the backpack.

When Eliot’s hand moves away, Quentin is sure he knows what’s happening, and sure enough, a quick peek shows him Eliot’s fingers working the spell to gather moisture from the air into his palm. Still, even though he’s expecting it, Quentin can’t help the whine he makes when Eliot touches him again with magically-slicked fingers. Luckily, the sounds of pirate hijinks around them seem to drown him out. He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against Eliot’s shoulder for a while, breathing heavily and letting it sink in—Eliot’s getting him off in the middle of a ride at Disney World. _Fuck_. The fantasy had never been realistic, not when there were so many outside factors, but here they are, and Eliot’s pulling it off. Quite literally— _fuck_ , his hand is a gift.

“You good?” Eliot asks quietly after some time has passed, resting his head on top of Quentin’s. How his wrist can move so precisely under the vague cover of the bag and still feel so amazing, Quentin will never know.

“Uh huh,” Quentin manages as they round the bend into a new room. Eliot’s strokes pick up an even faster rhythm, and Quentin has to lift his head and kiss him again so he won’t give them away. He’s never been this turned on from a handjob, so close to coming without even being able to move. “Close,” he breathes out against Eliot’s lips, fighting not to fuck up into his grip and chase his release.

Eliot works him harder, and Quentin is so sure everyone can see him falling apart in the back row of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, but he _does not care_ , because he feels amazing, and Eliot is doing this for him, and with a barely-concealed whimper, Quentin comes, coating Eliot’s fist and the underside of the backpack.

Eliot works him through it until the last possible second, as their boat nears the end of the ride, starting up the incline toward the unloading room. Quentin feels completely wrung out, his heart racing, finally breaking the kiss to look into Eliot’s eyes, fiery with the joy of what he’s just accomplished. With a quick tut, Eliot cleans him up, and he tucks Quentin’s spent cock away and zips him up just before the boat clears the wall.

Quentin has to be the first to get out of their row, so he takes a deep breath and stands on shaky legs, holding the bag in front of him just in case and avoiding eye contact with the cast members as he makes a beeline for the gift shop.

“Holy shit, Eliot,” Quentin says the moment he can back him into a dark corner. He pushes up on his toes, kissing Eliot with everything he’s got, heart still pumping wildly as he replays what just happened. Eliot pulls him close and laughs into the kiss, clearly proud of himself. They make out lazily until Quentin feels his heart rate start to return to normal, though he still feels a thrill when he thinks over it again.

“So, do you have somewhere else magically concealed where I can blow you?” Quentin murmurs, shifting over to kiss his neck.

Eliot laughs, but it’s a bit rough. “Sadly not. I uh, maybe should wear the fanny pack until we get back to our hotel.”

Quentin grins as he hands over the clip with the illusion charm on it, letting his leg slip forward just enough to brush against Eliot’s cock, watching his face as he breathes in sharply. “Let’s head back now. I wanna blow your mind as much as you’ve blown mine, if that’s even possible.”

“Mm, have you seen your mouth? It’s possible,” Eliot says, dipping down to kiss him again.

They head back to the buses, hand in hand, and once again Quentin can’t believe his life.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please feel free to comment!


End file.
